


The Stories of Monsters and Mystery's of America

by DaizNDust



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Urban Legends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28839675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaizNDust/pseuds/DaizNDust
Summary: There are some things we often see that we can't explain, whether it's a spirit causing misfortune, a monster in the woods, or creatures lurking beneath the depths. We've gathered a few of your favorite countries to tell their stories, true eyewitness accounts of the myths and legends Alfred F. Jones has kept hidden for so long but is now allowing us to bring into the light. From the Black-Eyed Children to the Goatman, join us as we explore these horrifying stories of supposed folklore from all across the fifty states.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	1. Introduction

_Hey, hey, my dudes, what’s shaking? My name is Alfred F. Jones and boy do I have a show for you._

_While my beautiful country is known for its daisy dukes and weird food choices, there is a darker side to this beloved country. For you see, there are monsters in the woods and ghosts creaking the floorboards. From the Black Eyed children to the Jersey Devil, this week we’re diving into the mysterious and the terrifying unknown territory of ghosts and monsters. My team has gathered real first-hand accounts so terrifying you may not sleep tonight, each from a different country you know and love. So nestle into your bed, turn out the lights, and hope that you have a fresh pair of pants beside you because this is the Stories of Monsters and Mysteries of America podcast!_

_Just remember, my loyal viewers, there’s more out there to fear than just the dark._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends and welcome to this brand new series, this is a revamped version of a previous work I did on Fanfiction.net under a similar name. I will be revamping old stories and bring out new stories as we go, feel free to leave any monsters and myths you'd like to hear as well.  
> I will also try to post links that will give you more information about each myth or legend, there's only so much I can add into these stories!  
> Enjoy!


	2. Arthur Kirkland and the Black-Eyed Children

I don’t like to believe that I could ever be so easily scared by anything, I’ve lived for quite a long time and I have seen both sides of the coin. I’ve seen the horrors of war, but also the riches of victory. I’ve seen the good and the bad of people, so much so that I had believed I had become adjusted to such evils. Not to mention, as well, my work with the dark arts. The things I’ve conjured up in my times using that witches circle would have made a grown man scream, I thought I had seen it all. 

That is, until I met them. 

I don’t like to believe I could be easily scared by the Black-Eyed Children, but in all honesty, the night I encountered them was the first time in such a long time I had felt true fear. The type of fear that grips your heart and threatens to stop it, the type of fear you can’t even fathom by just listening to it over a voice recording or video. This is the type of fear that comes from first-hand experience, but I’ll try to be as descriptive as I can and retell the experience to you because I wouldn’t recommend the experience to anyone.

  
To be completely honest with you, I had heard of the black-eyed children before. Not only does my own country have similar stories, but they were normally overhyped and over portrayed. Alfred has told stories like that to us so many times during get-togethers we all had just labeled them as pure myths, urban legends that Alfred liked to use to get us riled up before bed when we would stay at his house. Alfred would always warn us that they were real, but anyone listening would just laugh and question whether they had been actual encounters or the ramblings of a drunken man Alfred had decided to lend an ear to one night. 

* * *

The terror I experienced personally began really during one particular summit, it was the middle of winter I remember and we were all ready to get home for the holiday season. Yet, this was only day two of three so most of us were on edge from the anticipation. I still remember fondly the conversations I was having with a certain french man at the time, he was trying to downplay a certain event that had happened and I just wasn’t having it. I won’t go into details, I’m just getting flustered thinking about it myself, but just know that I was on the losing side of the argument. Things got heated and I eventually left the room, flustered and extremely angry with the entire world. Alfred had followed me from the room since we were in the states for the said summit, and he gave me an offer I couldn’t resist. 

“Instead of staying in the hotel with the others, I have a vacation house just out of town here a couple of miles. It’s isolated and quiet, I know you’re frustrated and could use a break. You can stay there for the night, maybe do some reading or whatever to calm yourself down. I’ll go stay in your hotel room instead, what do you say Iggy?”

I couldn’t say no, I was exhausted and wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of seeing anyone from today at the hotel, so I half-heartedly accepted the invitation. The next hour had been a whirlwind; after excusing himself for lunch Alfred drove me to the hotel where I packed a quick overnight bag to stay at his house. I think I was in and out in twenty minutes, I had just wanted to get out of there before anyone else came back from the summit. I got into the car and Alfred had been checking his phone, it seemed like he was reading some sort of news article from a local paper online. I now know what it was he was reading, but at the time I had just let it go when he quickly pocketed his phone and told me that it was nothing. “Just reading up on a local event that happened a few days before, some sort of Christmas event.” He’d told me, waving off the weird expression on his face and making his way through downtown, eventually going off the main road onto a fairly snow-covered dirt road.

When Alfred said this place was isolated he wasn’t kidding, the road seemed to go on for miles before the house came into our view. It was old and a dark green color covered in snow, it wasn’t as gorgeous as you would imagine someone of Alfred’s stance owning but once I stepped from the car I could understand why he kept it around. The forest surrounding us hit me all at once, there was a sweet silence that was only interrupted by the crunching of the snow underneath our feet. I knew Alfred, I knew that while he enjoyed his company there were times he enjoyed the quiet, and this house seemed like the perfect place for it. There wasn’t a house for miles, just nature at its finest.

I was led inside and made comfortable by Alfred, who tended to the already lit wood stove and put on the electric kettle in the kitchen. He led me to the guest room on the ground floor and showed me the fixings of the house, the inside being more gorgeous than the out. He told me he’d bring me something for dinner after the summit ended for the day, was quick to show how to tend to the woodstove, then departed to head back into town. 

Once Alfred left, I don’t know what it was but the house suddenly became almost overbearing. It was like the kind nature had disappeared with its owner, leaving a sense of dread and the eerie feeling of being watched from the giant windows in the front of the house. It was rare that such a feeling ever came to me, but I tried to ignore it and went on with my day in an attempt to relax. I had my tea, relaxed in the sitting room with the wood stove for a while, even found myself looking through a dusty room of books I had found on the second floor. I just couldn’t calm my nerves or the overwhelming fight or flight instinct that would sometimes arise when I stared out of the window into the woods. 

That book room was where I had been, flipping through a small book of legends and glancing out into the dark when the lingering feeling became too overwhelming to ignore. I had set down the book, feeling sick to my stomach when I heard the faint chime of the doorbell. I remember finding it strange that Alfred was ringing his own doorbell, but decided that it was him just trying to be polite in case I wasn’t decent, an attempted reasoning to calm my nerves. I was slow to get to the door, glancing towards a large grandfather clock and commenting to myself about how it seemed to be a little early for it to be Alfred. It was only four, summits usually ended around five or five-thirty at night here, plus the idea that Alfred was getting us something for dinner led me to be skeptical at who was ringing the bell. Who could be at the door? It couldn’t be neighbors, right? 

Yet, despite all this, I found myself opening the door without looking through the peephole and was surprised to find that no one was there. A fresh layer of snow had fallen since I had arrived so I could see a new set of footprints, though they almost seemed too small to be an adult size of shoe. 

Puzzled, I called out Alfred’s name while confused and disoriented by this overwhelming feeling of dread I had with the door opened. I shut the door and was halfway down the hall to the kitchen when the doorbell went off again, again when I answered there was nothing there. This time I called out, threatening Alfred for whatever silly prank he was trying to pull before slamming the door. I hadn’t even fully closed the door when that damned bell rang, I swung the door opened and felt the breath leave my chest at the sight of two small children on the porch. It was a girl and a boy, both seemed to be the same age, wearing ragged clothing and had their faces hidden by oversized hoodies. How the hell did two children end up here, town was miles away, and from what I could see there were no other tire tracks in the freshly fallen snow. My mind was racing, the overwhelming feeling of death was the only thing I could fathom as the girl shifted in front of me and turned away from the heat seeping from inside the house. 

“ _Excuse me, sir, may we come in and use your landline? We need to call our mum…”_

I knew something was wrong the moment that little girl started to speak, she seemed to be trying to horribly copy my accent in a low, almost fake tone. Next, came the sudden urge to open the door more for the children to come in. I glanced over when I realized my hand had moved back to the door handle, beginning to push the door open more without my knowledge. 

The little girl smiled, both looked up at me and for the first time, I saw their eyes. God their eyes, they were as black as the night. I had never seen anything so black, so lifeless, and yet so expressed with pure rage. The shiver that came down my spine was enough of a wake-up call to get me to quickly step back, slamming the door closed and turning every lock with shaking fingers. The doorbell continued to ring, then a horrible knocking that grew more aggressive the longer it pestered. I ran to every window and door in the house, making sure they were locked and sealed up tight while the knocking continued. I thought I was going to go insane, the knocking and the singing of my own demise, god I was about to call the police when it suddenly just stopped. 

I slumped down in one of the armchairs in the sitting room, rubbing my temples and struggling to comprehend what I had just seen. I considered that maybe it was a prank, but the way those children had made me feel told me otherwise. I remember looking towards the grandfather clock in the room, my blood running cold as soon as I saw the time. It was six o’clock, six fucking o’clock. How? How had two hours gone by? It was four, I swore it was only four, how was it now six? 

Alfred came back maybe ten minutes later, I knew he could tell something had happened because of the look on my face. He set the bags of food out in the kitchen and came into the room, crouching in front of me and trying to calm me down. I had then realized I was crying, tears streaming rapidly down my face as I continued to see those black eyes in my mind. I started to try and explain what happened to me but Alfred just gave a brief shake of his head, placing a finger to his lips to silence me. This was a side of Alfred I had never seen before, he quietly cared for me by taking me to the kitchen to eat and keeping me company that sleepless night I had. Alfred even made up for my absence the next day, claiming that I had fallen ill while I was on the next plane to Britain. He was quiet and serious, not the usual playful being I knew. 

* * *

I didn’t really talk to Alfred about it until a year later, we had been talking and I told him the story of what happened. I told him about those black eyes and he didn’t laugh, he didn’t call me crazy, he instead rubbed the back of his neck and averted his gaze from my own. He told me that he was afraid that had been the situation, though he didn’t want to push it at the time of the attack. _“_ Those were what I call the Black-Eyed Children, a story that has been passed down in this area for a long time.” He had begun, his drink long forgotten on the table as his eyes stared out a window. The blue in his eyes seemed dull and for once, Alfred looked tired and almost sad. This was nothing I had ever seen from him before, I actually pitied how he looked at the given moment. 

“There had been an encounter just days before and I had hoped it would have passed by then, but I knew when I came back to the house that night it wasn’t the case. They are drawn to certain negative energy and request that you help them in some way when you are most vulnerable, so in your case Iggy being left alone in the middle of the woods. If you do help them bad things will happen, the worst cases even being death. It seems strange, a nation being scared of something as simple as that, but I do have the sense that they could possibly injure one of us. I don’t know what they are, but I know that they’re dangerous.”

I laughed slightly, the only reaction I could really give at the moment, and asked soon after how he could live with such a terrifying presence. How could this man live with such a threat looming over his head? 

Alfred turned to me and gave me the most haunted look I’d ever seen on the man. What he told me next really shocked me, when I think of Alfred and his country I don’t usually think of the evil that could possibly be lurking in the unruly territory I had left him so long ago to possess on his own. This side of Alfred made me wonder what the nation had witnessed here, I wondered internally if any other nations had witnessed anything like this in their times here. I can remember my hand was shaking so much at the thought that my teacup was shaking almost violently against its plate, quietly taking in what Alfred was telling me with a sense of fear and curiosity. 

I can tell you that I have made the habit of looking through peepholes instead of just opening the door willy nilly for people, I never want to experience those black eyes again. I have witnessed a few other things in America, but those are stories for another time, just speaking about this experience has exhausted me. Thank you for- oh? I forgot to tell you what he said?

Well, basically in his words, he made the claim- 

“ **If you think they are scary, you should meet some of the others. They’re the true reasons why I used to be so scared of the dark.** ”

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I might go do a little light reading and try to forget all of what I told you for a little while. I’ve already accepted the fact that the nightmares will be coming tonight, I just want some time to prepare myself before they come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Thanks for reading, please send me your recommendations for monsters and mysteries you may have in the comments below.
> 
> Here are some articles about the Black-Eyed Children,  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Black-eyed_children  
> https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/black-eyed-children/  
> https://tbsnews.net/splash/legend-black-eyed-children-55705
> 
> Happy Reading!


	3. Matthew Williams and the Pope Lick Monster

To start this off clearly, I knew my brother had a few scary legends about his country. He has even told me a few of them, but I always ignored them. It's kind of like the boy who cried wolf, y'know? You hear so many fake stories or myths that when you hear about anything that seems just off from the realm of reality, you tend to ignore it. Alfred loved scary stories; as kids Arthur would always scold him for keeping me up at night with his tales of ghosts and monsters that lurked in the woods around us. As I grew older, however, my fears of the boogeyman Alfred described started to fade away, but the resentment I had towards Alfred for his constant torment of these nightmares always lingered. I had thought that his stories were all lies…

That is… until one trip to America.

* * *

It was nearly the end of the summer and Alfred had invited me down for his birthday, he was having a few of our friends over as well but invited me personally to stay for a week or two to hang out. It had been almost a year since I had last been over to Alfreds, I had gotten so caught up in my work and national affairs that I didn't have the time to travel down south to see him. He invited us all to a vacation home just off of a fairly large city with a decent-sized airport that I had flown into from Ontario, this vacation house I had never been to before and I remember wondering about as I packed my bags for my trip.   
The flight went smoothly; at the airport I soon found Alfred with a large grin on his face as he waited for me at the terminal, both of us hugging briefly once I was close enough. Alfred was wearing the bomber jacket he had always worn, his glasses nearly falling off his face by the time we pulled away with the same large smile and shining blue eyes that I remembered from when we were kids. He helped me collect my suitcase from the baggage claim, helping weasel me through the airport as quickly as we could. He drove to a large cottage he owned just out of town, nothing but trees for a couple of miles which I never really found odd at the time considering the pile of fireworks I had seen in his trunk.  
To be completely honest with you, a small bit of me was angry at Alfred. Throughout our childhood, Alfred had tormented me with those stories, tales of monsters coming to take me away that kept me and our caretakers up long into the night. My last visit, nearly a year ago to the day, resulted in a small fight breaking out between the two of us about it. Being myself though, the issue was immediately swept under the rug and while it died out in Alfred’s mind it had continued to manifest itself inside of me. I had decided that this trip I was going to call him out, make him see how his stories had basically traumatized me, and get some form of a formal apology. I had considered getting this apology on the drive to the cottage since we’d be cornered in the car, but we had arrived at the house a lot quicker than I had expected so I was unable to.

Most of our friends were already there; Francis was sitting in the kitchen with a bottle of wine, Arthur scolding Francis for his day drinking with Yao overlooking some of the food being prepared by Toris. Kiku, Ludwig, and Feliciano were lounging out in the living room watching some animated movie with Gilbert every so often popping in to watch and make fun of segments of it, something about dogs. Everyone was having a great time; the party really kicked up when Ivan arrived and we all went outside for some fireworks. I stayed back and watched as my buzzed brother lit off fireworks with Feliciano and the others, I didn't want to interfere at the moment with their drunken fun. It was Alfred’s birthday, after all, my problems could wait until later. The fireworks lit up the night for hours and it was actually pretty amusing watching my brother joke around, chasing Feliciano with a Roman candle with Ludwig barking at them to be careful. Everyone was having a fairly good time.   
But once the fireworks were gone Alfred started a large bonfire in the middle of the backyard, coaxing everyone into a circle around the blaze. Alfred seemed to light up faintly as everyone settled down into the grass around the fire, one of his slow smiles coming to his face as he lifted his hands to the sky, a few embers flying ironically from the large flame for his dramatic storytelling purposes. "There is a reason I brought you all here this year, I wanted to tell you all about one of my most famous legends, one of the many reasons why you don't walk the train tracks alone at night! The Pope Lick Monster!"

I groaned at the idea and soon felt Alfred's blue gaze rest on me, a frown faintly shadowing his face as he gave me a buzzed, quizzical look. He pulled me off to the side of the group with a tug at my jacket, stepping away from the warmth of the fire into the coolness of the July night. "Why the groan Matt?" He asked, though my face never relented from that look. I was a few drinks in and was tired of the lies, he’d exhausted those fairytales one too many times with me.   
"We all know that your stories are fake Alfred." I simply stated as all eyes in the group turned towards me, a look of anger flashing across Alfred's face. I wasn't surprised by the anger, continuing to stand my ground for the first time in years. I wasn’t going to be pushed around by him and his stories anymore, I knew the truth.  
"Matthew my stories are not made up, all of them are true! Ask anyone here!" Alfred had continued to argue, though the buzzed group who had settled in around the campfire were either too drunk or didn’t care enough to pay us any mind as they went back to their own drinks and conversations.   
  
"Don't give me that Alfred! Do you know how many times as a kid I checked my closet for the 'shadow people'? Or how scared I was to swim in lakes because 'Oh! the lake monster might get me!'" The coarsing anger I had never felt before was bursting out of me, it came out in the form of name-calling and hot tears that I could feel streaming down my cheeks. I was tired of his lies, tired of the torture he had caused me as a child. I turned on my heels in frustration at the stupid look on his face, upset for not receiving my desired apology, and started to tromp off into the woods. Once beyond the treeline, I heard someone behind me question where I was going and for a moment I considered turning back, going back, and apologizing for the hurtful things I had called Alfred. What kept me walking, however, was when Alfred just simply stated, "If he doesn't believe, let him go learn."

I don't know how I ended up finding the tracks, I don't even remember going past them on the drive to Alfred's cottage. Trying to remember anything, however, in my semi-buzzed stupor was impossible and I shook it off as I began to follow them. The air had cooled down from earlier that day, insects chirped around me as something seemed to drag me along those forgotten tracks. 

It felt like I had been walking for hours when I came to the trestle. The land around me sloped down into a ravine and the tracks continued on over a raised platform to the other edge of the railway, it seemed to stretch on forever, a mass of rusting steel with a darkened stream below. It was eerily quiet as well, the insects had stopped chirping and all I could hear was the wind blowing through the dead of the night. I stood there momentarily, considering turning back when I heard a familiar shout from across the bridge. "Hey? Matthew? Are you out there?" Alfred’s voice came loud and clear, though distant like he was a long distance away from me.   
"Alfred?" I shouted back. I questioned in my mind momentarily how he had gotten on the other side of the trestle, as I had previously mentioned I hadn't noticed passing the tracks on the way here. I remember thinking that maybe, just maybe, Alfred knew that the tracks were here. Maybe he had assumed this was the way I would come and came looking for me. I was naive, but through that naiveness, the emotion of fear crept through, what if my brother fell? Judging from this height he wouldn't be laughing after hitting the ground below us, and with how drunk Alfred had been at the party…

"Alfred! Don't move! Stay away from the edges, alright? I'm coming out to get you!" I had shouted into the quiet night's air, stepping my way carefully onto the rusting metal and keeping my eyes focused on the beams in front of me. My heart was beating louder and louder in my chest as I came to the center of the trestle, I feared for my brother's life when in reality I should have been worried about my own. Once I reached the middle of the trestle I heard a strange noise, the strong stench of sulfur filling the air, I lifted my eyes just briefly and saw…

Well, I can't even properly describe what I saw that night.

It looked like a goat but stood on two legs, its horned head was cocked as it stared at me, its elongated face led to a mouth that spread out in a vicious, hungry smile. In its hand was an ax, the handle a color darker than it should have been. I could barely breathe as it realized I was looking at it; it took one step of its cloven hooves onto the bridge and I turned as quickly as I could, dashing my way across the rotting steel as I heard the sound of hooves on metal behind me. It screeched my name in a horrible voice that wasn't my brothers, switching between that dark voice and that of Alfred's as I heard it start to close in behind me. I leaped off the tracks once I was at a safe distance from the ground and fell into the forest ground below, scrambling to my feet and racing towards the forest as I heard the sound of hooves stop just at the edge of the trestle. I ran, I didn't dare look back as a horrifying scream echoed through the air. I didn't want to see who, or what had just chased me across the bridge.

I seemed to run for hours until I reached Alfred's cottage; everyone was already inside asleep and only Alfred remained outside with his shotgun propped up on a rock near the fire, he looked relieved as I jumped into his arms crying and shaking. We sat outside next to the fire for what seemed like an eternity, it took me a while through my sniffles and sobs to recount the story to him but he just sat there with a stern look on his face as he listened to my frightening encounter.

"Thankfully you are okay, that's all that matters to me."

Alfred went on to explain to me what I had seen, about the legend of the Pope Lick Monster; no one knew where he came from but if you went to his bridge at night it was said by the people in the neighboring town that the Pope Lick Monster would hypnotize you, forcing you to fall to your death off the trestle, that or force you to stand on the tracks until a train came through and hit you. Once his explanation was done Alfred patted my back with a forced smile on his face, picking up his gun with one hand and pouring out the smoldering flames with the other as we both headed inside for the night. I honestly couldn't sleep a wink, every time I closed my eyes I saw that gruesome smile, those sharp teeth.

Everyone seemed to have a comment the next morning on my absence that night, or how hellish I looked after the sleepless night. I just ignored them, pouring myself some coffee and walking outside to where Alfred stood just beyond the firepit, his eyes locked onto the woods. I approached him and smiled as he jumped at my touch, ironically I remember just briefly enjoying how great it felt to have scared him for once.

He glanced back at me, then behind me and I followed his gaze back to the house where his gun was lying propped up next to an old rocking chair. 

"Why did you have your gun out last night?” I remember asking him, Alfred wasn’t the gunslinger many people think of him as, rather he kept them more for protection than anything else. “You never use your gun, did you hear some coyotes or something while I was gone?" I was honestly trying to make light of the situation, but Alfred's serious silence caused the fear to begin to rise once more in my throat. It took him a couple of seconds before he sat down, placing his hands over his head and grumbling quietly to himself. This was an Alfred I didn’t know, this was probably the scariest moment of this entire trip. The look of regret and fear Alfred gave me as he looked up at me, I will never forget it.  
  
"I didn't want to scare you even more last night, but while you were gone Francis thought he saw you just inside the woods. I made everyone go inside and I grabbed my gun to wait for you… god, I shouldn't have let you go alone, the fireworks must have drawn it here… I’m so sorry Matt I should have been more careful, I shouldn’t have let you go out alone…”  
I stared at him confused, my brain struggling to remember the night before. Had I come back to the house? Maybe I had run past it in the panic from the Pope Lick Monster? "I honestly don’t remember coming back, when did he see me?" I started to ask but Alfred suddenly standing caused me to lightly jump, my gaze following as his finger pointed towards where he had earlier been staring. I felt the breath being sucked from my lungs, I felt like crying at that exact moment as the events from last night came flashing through my mind. On one of the trees, an ax with a darkened handle was dug deep into the wood next to what looked like long gouged marks.   
"I know it wasn't you Matthew. Let's get out of here, we can go stay in DC for the remainder of your trip." Alfred’s voice shook as he started to head inside. I felt like I was going to throw up as I stared at the ax, backing towards the house and struggling to comprehend all the information I was given. "H-How did you know that it wasn't me?" I felt my voice quivering as well, I really didn’t want to know the answer and Alfred didn’t look like he wanted to tell me. Yet, he stopped as he went to step inside the cottage, grasping the door handle just a bit tighter as he whispered, "Because the Matthew I saw last night had hooves. Let's go."   
  
I had started to follow him to the car but my mind compelled me to turn my head, to look back into the woods for another few brief moments. I replayed last night in my mind for the hundredth time, staring into the darkness that, despite it being near midday, continued to loom over the forest. I remember as clearly as that night, that from the darkness I saw a pale hand come out and slowly grab the ax. I made a dash for the car after that and within minutes the two of us were driving off away from that hellish cabin. I had my window open as we drove down the road for air, hearing a low wailing noise coming from the woods around us. I looked at my brother who was quick to turn on the radio, blaring a song as loud as he could until we made it into town.

* * *

I found out in a later discussion with Alfred that the trestle in question was about an hour walk from Alfred's cottage, it's so hard to find from the woods that Alfred believes I was lured there. He theorizes that the beast was brought to his house by the sound of the fireworks, used its demonic ability to lure me to the trestle and he theorized that it would have successfully lured others there as well if Alfred hadn't had made everyone go inside. I nearly was face to face with death that night and the thought of that chills me to the bone, even sitting here is giving me goosebumps just thinking about it.

I got lucky that night. Now I know, now I know the horrible truth.

Now I know to always listen to Alfred's scary stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! Thanks so much for reading this weeks segment, if you have a monster or ghost story you want to be shared feel free to comment below!
> 
> Here is some light reading on the Pope Lick Monster, which this story is based off of!  
> https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/pope-lick-trestle-bridge  
> https://cryptidz.fandom.com/wiki/Pope_Lick_Monster  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pope_Lick_Monster
> 
> Happy Reading!


	4. Yao Wang and the Jersey Devil

I know this may be hard for you to believe, but this whole experience began with a short argument between Alfred and me over food. Yes, you heard me, food. We nations will often have a meeting of sorts over the computer, more as a way for us all to keep in touch while in our own respective countries. The idea was started by Alfred himself I believe, what at first was a private event between a few nations became a huge, informal biweekly meeting between friends. We never really had a theme for these nights, we would all just get on the video chat for an hour or two until half of us finally got off because of the time differences. I admit I’m usually one of the first to get off, due to the significant time difference. That meeting, however, I decided to stay on later than usual for me.   
It was around six in the morning for me, while it was only about fiveish in the evening for Alfred. There weren’t many of us left in the call, I can’t tell you who was still there but one of them had asked Alfred what he was making for dinner while seeming more astonished that he wasn’t doing some sort of fast food. I can’t tell you how much I laughed when Alfred said Chinese food, yet holding up a beef and broccoli dish only moments later for us to see through the camera. I was asked why and I couldn’t help but continue my fit of faint giggles, telling them that what Alfred had made DEFINITELY wasn’t true Chinese food.   
Thus a small argument between Alfred and I ensued, I don’t remember much of the details but it eventually boiled down to Alfred challenging me to come and cook for him an authentic Chinese dinner. Don’t ask me why I said yes, I don’t even remember agreeing to anything, but when I woke up late in the afternoon the same day I discovered the confirmation email for a flight to America scheduled for the following week. 

So, a week from that date I flew to America and soon landed at a local airport, one I had never been to before much to my dismay. Alfred has this weird obsession of constantly moving around his own country, it was in his mind a way to keep tabs on his “people”. This is especially frustrating when the summit comes around in his country, while it is refreshing to get to tour a new part of the country, it’s super annoying in terms of landing in different airports. There are so many different hoops us countries have to jump through to be allowed in, it’s ridiculous. But I sucked up my complaints about the whole ordeal, made my way through airline security, and found Alfred waiting for me at baggage. 

We drove nearly an hour and a half I believe to a small tourist town, we had decided to go shopping early so I didn’t succumb to jet lag so soon. I have to say, Walmart in America was quite an interesting experience, to say the least. I ended up dragging him downtown to a few local shops, finding the ingredients I needed while helping a couple of his local businesses along the way. Anything to get out of that Walmart.  
I remember that I wanted to stop in a small souvenir shop to get something small, a commemoration of the trip I still didn’t remember ever booking. Stepping into that small brick and mortar shop was my first encounter with the Jersey Devil, I’m serious when I say that about ninety percent of the objects in this store were about him. There were tee-shirts, mugs, children's toys, candles, candies, books, anything you can think of they probably had. It was near insanity. Yet, I couldn’t help but snort at the sight, shaking my head slightly and in amusement buying myself a small bobblehead of the creature. Alfred offered to tell me the story behind the creature, but I waved it off easily by telling him that we couldn’t let the food in the car go bad. I still to this day regret not listening to him, I regret not stopping and hearing the serious tone in his voice as he told the story in a hushed whisper. If I could go back in time I would have stopped, but I’m not a magician unfortunately and I waved off the chance while ironically holding the imagery of the damned thing in my hands. Stories were stories at the time, nothing more, and I wasn’t too fond of hearing one of those fables at the time. 

Anyway, we left town and Alfred drove us out to this extremely old house in the middle of a dense pine forest. The trees seemed to cover the outside of the house in darkness, if I hadn’t been able to see the sun from the dirt driveway where Alfred had just parked the car I would have assumed it was nightfall or an eclipse. I made the ridiculous comment that I felt like we were in a horror movie as we approached, though I recognize now that I should have taken his quiet toned laugh at the joke more seriously than I did. I had assumed that he was angry that he didn’t get to tell his wise tales, so I ignored it and helped him bring the groceries inside of the house. The inside was more inviting than the outside, brightly lit rooms welcomed me with a warmth I always enjoyed during my visits with Alfred. Despite his loud personality at meetings Alfred knew how to make a household warm and inviting, whether it be the decor or the way a house smelled upon entry, it always felt like a home more than just a vacation house for him.   
Alfred got me set up in the guest room, dusting off an antique armoire for my clothing, and the riot of cooking dinner began. Alfred tried to help the best he could, he would offer to stir or chop things but I always shooed him back into the living room with a threatening wave of a wooden spoon. He would sometimes sneak a bite of certain ingredients, causing a wave of laughter to fall between the two of us as the playful cycle continued. Alfred could be annoying, I won’t deny that at all. But during those personable moments with him, when he wasn't trying to be in the spotlight of other nations, he was an extremely easygoing and likable person. 

Thinking back, nothing really struck me as out of the ordinary about the house, or the area for that matter, until darkness came. If I thought the day was night then the night was simply just a large void, you could shine a light outside I bet and it would just instantly vanish. I got chills just staring out of his kitchen window, from what I could see the pure black of the night seemed to stretch on forever in the forest pines. I didn’t let that bother me though, I made dinner and both of us shared stories over a meal of yu Xiang rou si with a side of Xiao long bao and a few glasses of red wine Alfred had bought while we were in town.   
Despite my exhaustion after the dishes were washed I couldn’t find myself falling asleep as I laid in the guest bed, I think I rolled around for maybe an hour or two after putting away my book. I remember peering at a small window above my bed, staring intently into the slow-moving inky blackness as my eyes slowly began to close.   
Then, the scream. I sat up almost immediately in the bed, not really frightened but more surprised at the human-sounding screams that were coming from outside in the pines. I craned my head and squinted in an attempt to see something, anything in the darkness but to no avail. I briefly remembered Alfred saying something about foxes while in town, trying to calm my jazzed nerves by pinning the sounds on a vixen out in the pines. It was a fox, I couldn’t understand why this damned area had me so on edge. It wasn’t like me to be this jumpy, it was like I was almost expecting something to happen. I thought back to the shop and scowled, shaking my head furiously and throwing myself back into the bed. That damned legend had me on edge, it was so strange how something like that could have an effect on a person. I closed my eyes, refusing to open them until sleep finally washed over my senses and made me numb to the sounds outside.

I woke up the next morning exhausted, the feeling of unsettlement and annoyance towards myself continued to follow me around as I got up and made myself decent in front of a large vanity mirror in the room. When I got downstairs Alfred was on his phone, dressed rather sharply and speaking in a rather impatient way with whoever he was in conversation with at the time. He gave me a smile when I walked in, waving a hand carelessly towards the freshly brewed pot of coffee sat beside himself, and wandered off into the living room without another word. 

“Yao, I’m terribly sorry to do this. Something just came up, I have to run into town for a couple of hours.” 

I assured him that I could take care of myself, understanding fully a large amount of responsibility he held as he rushed around to gather his things. America was a big place, with so many citizens there were bound to be constant issues or problems he had to fix. I knew from experience myself. He told me that there was food in the fridge for me to make some sort of lunch, showed me a few odd parts of the old house, and raced off to his car with only a few moments to spare. Then he just suddenly stopped, he stared out into the pine trees for a few moments before turning back in my direction. He called out my name, I turned towards him and momentarily found a hard blue gaze directly on me. “Don’t go too far into the woods, there is swampland all around us and it’s fairly easy to get lost. Especially at night, don’t go into the woods at night.”  
  
My puzzled expression followed Alfred as he reversed down the dirt road, a feeling of uncertainty hit me and I was almost tempted to wave him down before he was out of sight. It was as if the forest began to enclose itself around me, the continuing darkness seemed to come closer now that Alfred wasn’t here to protect me. But, once the car was gone I slapped myself for thinking so foolishly. My reasoning was that I was being irrational, being scared of the darkness. I was a grown adult, a nation to be exact, and I was getting scared of some woods.  
I went back inside and spent the day roaming around the house, nothing on American television seemed interesting to me and the house was too empty to really explore. There were a few books that I found on a shelf but I found myself bored by them instantly, Alfred’s fascination with the occult definitely stemming from his time with Arthur. 

It was after lunchtime that I foolishly decided to go for a walk, I assured myself that it would only be a minor trek into the woods and that I would be out long before nightfall. There was no way I was going to be out in those woods in the dark, no possible way. I found a flashlight in one of Alfred’s kitchen drawers and ensured I had turned out all the light before beginning on a trail I had noticed earlier that day, watching the house soon loom out of sight from within the trees. If I thought the view from the house was creepy, being in the pines themselves was ten times worse. The more I walked, the more I recognized that the marshland Alfred had described didn't exist as I followed the overgrown path through the trees. I have to admit, if it weren’t for the major creep factor going on at the time, the scenery would have been absolutely stunning. I felt so alone, alone to the point that all of my senses became absolutely focused on the world around me. It got to a point, however, that the birds just stopped. It seemed like the world had paused, life fully disappeared the deeper I went. I found myself unable to stop, pushed deeper into the swamplands by the allure of adventure and mystery. 

I felt the spell disappear when I reached the house. I nearly dropped the flashlight, pausing with my heart in my throat as I scanned the old structure. It was a two-story, I wasn’t sure of what kind it was or anything, but it had a rusted metal fence with the gate kicked in surrounding it. It would have been gorgeous if it wasn’t so decrepit, the old waterlogged wood creaked and groaned under its own weight, and from what I could see a bit of the roof had already begun to cave in. I was half tempted to turn around right then but a droplet of rain on my nose prompted me to run under the porch for shelter, the sudden rain howling through the trees and just barely missing me under the rotting structure. I cursed myself quietly, belittling myself for not checking the weather ahead of time and finding myself stuck in the shelter of this rotting structure. I decided to wait it out, finding no need to go get soaked, and turned towards the inside of the structure. 

It smelled awful, the smell of rotting wood and sulfur mixed with the scent of decay nearly caused me to lose my lunch. I staggered slightly, avoiding stepping on a ragged stuffed bear while staring at the graffiti along the walls. It looked like some kind of cult had been here, it was here that I considered for a brief moment that Alfred was pranking me. There was no way Alfred would have such a place in his country, right?   
The stillness was uncomfortable as I walked over creaking floorboards, finding myself wandering aimlessly around the room while making sure I didn’t fall into the basement. The stench from the basement was awful, peering down into the depths with my flashlight. I could see a few white bones gleaming up at me from the dark, the more I scanned the dark hole the more I saw. Some poor animals had fallen in and died, I rationalized with myself as I held my breath and continued on with my exploration. I opened up a chest of sorts within one of the rooms and to my surprise found a bunch of old children's toys, prompting me to close the lid quickly upon seeing a fairly creepy doll with shattered glass eyes. This place was seriously freaking me out.  
I heard a creaking sound above me that caused me to pause, the second floor seemed to slightly shake from the pressure of something just above me. I didn’t recognize that it was hoof steps until much later, but it was enough of a spook for me to turn and hurry my way back towards the front door. I thought of the possibility that the rain was going to cause the old structure to collapse, so I didn't want to make the mistake of being within the house when it did.

Then, I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. When I reached the doorway leading back into the woods, I turned back around to take in the house once more and…

I saw it.

From a hole in the ceiling, a large head was being lowered to look at me, it looked exactly like the head of a horse but the eyes. God the eyes, I swear to you I was locking eyes with the devil himself. I’ve been through a lot as a nation, I thought I had seen and crawled through the pits of hell while crawling through trenches, staring death in the eyes on a daily basis while knowing he was never there for me. Those eyes, those fucking red eyes, I felt in that moment that it was my turn for death. 

The thing opened its mouth and let out a horrific shriek, I thought I was going to go deaf from the noise as I lurched out of the door frame. I had found my footing once in the grass, shocked for a moment at how dark it had become. It wasn’t supposed to be dark for another few hours, how long had I been in that house? In these woods? I dashed into the rain the moment I heard the creature crash through the roof and felt the ground underneath my feet slightly tremble, my mind racing as I began to run back the way I had come with the flashlight long forgotten on the ground below me. It sounded like the entire forest was going to come down on me, the claps of thunder and lightning from the rain mixed with the crashing of it was coming through the trees causing the once quiet forest to be filled with noise. I placed my hands over my ears as I ran, begging whatever god out there to stop it as Alfred’s house came into my view. I felt a cry of relief escape from my throat at the sight of the back porch, I scrambled up the stairs and flung myself into the house almost tempted to kiss the ground I had fallen onto once I had secured the back door tightly shut.   
I will admit I sat there and cried for a long time, pathetically curled in a cold wet ball while listening to the storm outside. I don’t remember how long I had been lying there before I thought I heard a gunshot, more of that horrific shrieking echoing through the air during my weeping. Before I could really question it more, Alfred came through the front door with a few bags in hand and a smile that immediately dropped once he saw me. He dropped the bags, got onto the floor with me, and held me for god who knows how long. I’m embarrassed at how long we had to sit like that, but the fear I had just witnessed immobilized me for so long. He never once questioned it, never said an ‘I told you so’ or made fun of me, he just sat there with his eyes glued to the darkened kitchen window and his arms tightly around me. 

He explained it to me over a warm cup of tea, the bobblehead I had bought mockingly rocking its head at me as he spoke. They called it the Jersey Devil; there were many legends on how the creature came into the world but the legend Alfred told me was of a woman who cursed her thirteenth child shortly after she became pregnant. Shortly after the baby was born it grew fur and hooves, becoming the creature we know today and escaping through the chimney, disappearing into the woods. It has lurked in the dark pines ever since, scaring the townsfolk and actually bringing more tourism to this area because of it. People have claimed to get pictures or even video evidence of the creature, but Alfred told me that they were all fake. The only proof of the creature were the memories of those who witnessed it, and of course the house he kept protected on his land. The more I listened, the more slightly sympathetic I became towards the creature in a way. It was scary, sure, but if that was what happened to me, in that house, I would be pissed that some old man was rummaging around in my house. I completely understood why I was chased from the house, terrifying or not the beast wanted its privacy. 

Nevertheless, I had a sleepless night ahead of me, Alfred opted to stay up with me until we left the house early the next morning for the airport. This part of the story is where I don’t know whether I actually saw it, or my tired mind was playing tricks on me. When we were leaving I happened to look back at the house, my mouth flew agape and I nearly caused Alfred to wreck the car when I grabbed a hold of his right arm. The Devil stood where the car had been parked moments earlier, standing on two hooves and watching with its devilish gaze as we drove. I felt Alfred tense up, but he didn’t say anything as he just firmly grasped the steering wheel. The beast made one last screeching sound, stomping its hooves, and almost seeming like it was throwing a fit before its leathery wings flew out on either side of its emaciated body, claws glinting in the light and it rose just out of sight back into the dark of the pine forest. "I never expected him to be so active, lucky you." Alfred's tone was dark and hushed as my gaze turned to him, the rush of shock taking over me as I stared intently towards him.  
“How do you stay here with such an awful creature living here? Aren’t you tormented by it?” I couldn’t help but ask as Alfred simply stared ahead, pressing his lips into a thin line and flexing his grasp on the steering wheel that didn’t relax until we were in town.

Alfred didn’t give me a direct answer until we were at the airport, I went to walk inside but was surprised when he pulled me in for a tight hug.   
“Rather me than one of my citizens, these are the people I truly watch over,” I remember him whispering to me, pulling away with a large but sad smile across his features. I thanked him one last time for his hospitality, gathering my luggage, and within an hour was on the first flight home. 

I still have the bobblehead if you’re wondering, it looks so out of place on my shelves of nicknacks in my office but I keep it there for good reason. I often find myself staring at it, reliving the memories over and over again in my head of the day I actually met the devil. I haven’t been back to that part of America since the incident, though what Alfred told me still always gets me thinking. 

How many of these “skeletons” does Alfred have hiding in his closets?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In all honesty, I wasn't going to revamp this story until much, much later but I got a request so here it is! This is for you Not_Jazz, I hope you enjoy it!  
> If you have any recommendations for monsters and mysteries you'd like to see in this series, feel free to message me or comment below.
> 
> Like always, here are some links if you'd like to read more on the infamous Jersey Devil:  
> https://cryptidz.fandom.com/wiki/Jersey_Devil  
> https://www.atlantic-county.org/history/jersey-devil-pg1.asp  
> https://www.history.com/topics/us-states/jersey-devil-video  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jersey_Devil
> 
> Happy Reading!


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